


Four Times Sam Hated His Life

by ishippeditovernight (sonofabitch_awesome)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Cute, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Even Kevin gets annoyed, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, POV Sam, Sam Is So Done, Sam and Destiel, Sam is Not Amused, Team Free Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:04:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonofabitch_awesome/pseuds/ishippeditovernight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...(And One Time He Returned The Favor)</p><p>There are fics where Sam is a <i>total</i> shipper and wanders around with stars in his eyes about the miracle that is Cas and Dean being together.</p><p>Then there are fics where Sam gets fed up with them sometimes.</p><p>This is one of the latter.</p><p>-</p><p>One of those "everyone lives in the Bunker" fics that has no specified timeline. Also, Sam does actually support Cas and Dean being together-- but come on, everyone gets annoyed by their brother (and brother's partner) at times :p</p><p>(Rated M only due to a few references to sex/sex acts. No actual sex is onscreen.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times Sam Hated His Life

**i.**

Sam was all for his brother and Cas finding some form of happiness in the middle of all the shitstorms this life threw their way. Don’t ever let anyone get him wrong. Setting aside how surprisingly well-suited they were to each other, the fact that Dean was with someone who was in the hunting life too was an amazing bonus. And oh yeah, the whole “his brother and Cas both being happy” thing was so good he damn near needed to pinch himself.

Not to mention, a happy Dean – while at times annoying and dear God, sometimes he actually _whistled_ while making breakfast – was a million times better than a pining Dean. Or a mopey Dean. For all of their sakes. Kevin sometimes commented on it, too, catching the mood and joking around.

But all of that didn’t mean that Sam didn’t still get irritated with them on a regular basis.

Case in point. Here he was just trying to relax in the library with a book he’d been wanting to read for a long time. But with a near-constant stream of hunts lately, any reading at all had been put off.

And in came Cas, hair sticking up in sweaty little tufts and missing both the trenchcoat and his suit jacket. His dress shirt hung loose and unbuttoned. “Sam,” he said awkwardly, a flush rising up his neck and cheeks. “Dean and I were… Well. Um. Do you have any condoms?”

Sam knew that Kevin was sleeping, but that even if he was awake Cas wouldn’t have felt as comfortable asking him (or really, anybody) before Sam. He mentally screamed and set his book aside, getting to his feet with a sigh. “Yeah. Sure, uh, gimme a sec,” he mumbled. “Be right back.”

Not a full _five_ minutes after he handed over a foil strip (Cas still so red-faced that Sam couldn’t help but smile affectionately) and sat back down to read he did get interrupted again. “Sam!” Dean called out as he rushed into the library. He was nearly naked except for a single sock and a pair of boxers, hastily thrown on and hiding almost nothing.

“Ugh!” Sam exclaimed, holding his book up to block the disturbing view of Dean’s lower body. “Couldn’t you have at least put the dead guy robe on?”

“What’s the matter?” Dean smirked. “See something you don’t like?” Sam practically expected him to pose or something, but thank God Dean seemed to remember he was in his 30s and not twenty years younger. He stepped behind a chair from a table and too-casually ran a hand over his head. “So, we’re, uh, out of lube too. You have any new things you can spare?”

Sam rolled his eyes, keeping the book held up. He wasn’t taking _any_ chances. “…You two’re out of condoms _and_ lube? Don’t you check those things _before_ you start going at each other?”

Dean laughed, leaning onto the back of his own chair. Lines fanned out from the sides of his eyes, his whole face lighting up. “I don’t really get in the mood to do inventory at the time, Sammy. I mean, have you _seen_ the way he kisses me?”

“Uh, yeah, unfortunately,” Sam said. “You guys act like you forget _four_ people live here, not just you two.” Five, when Charlie stayed longer times.

But Dean wasn’t paying attention. “And not to mention… What he can do with his—”

“Second drawer! Second drawer!” Sam yelped in alarm, the book nearly slipping out of his grasp. “My nightstand. Brand new bottle. Help yourself.”

“Great. Thanks, dude.” And Dean was off.

Sam shook his head, desperately wishing brain bleach was a thing. He _really_ didn’t need that mental image—or for that matter, that _physical_ one.

*          *          *          *          *

**ii.**

Sam stifled the urge to dad-comment his brother as they sat in the Impala, waiting on a stakeout. The words were practically poised on his lip.

Light flickered on out of the corner of his eyes, and Sam took a deep breath. “Anything new?” he asked casually. How the hell could this relationship be making his brother even more annoying?

Dean shook his head before turning the phone’s screen back off and stuffing it back into his pocket. “No. Nothing.” Cleared his throat.

Sam stared straight ahead at the warehouse they were monitoring. It was only a matter of time, he knew. They were on a case; several individuals had been suspiciously injured. They’d talked to a few people in town, and all signs pointed to amateurs dabbling in witchcraft. They’d checked out the place earlier and were now just killing time.

“Is that—” Dean mumbled, leaning forward as a flicker of motion in the distance caught their attention. They were both absolutely motionless and silent for several seconds before they realized it was only a bird. It fluttered off after a short time, and they both settled back against the seats.

Sam’s own phone went off, the volume deactivated and the screen flashing on. A message from Kevin asking how things were; he was thinking of ordering pizza, did they want any? As Sam typed a reply, he realized Dean was looking over, craning his neck. “What?” he snapped.

Dean blinked helplessly. “Uh… Is th—”

“It’s _Kevin_ , Dean, calm the hell down,” Sam said, finishing his text and hitting _Send_. “He’s ordering pizza. Relax.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay.” His brother scratched the back of his neck. He sighed, long and heavy. Sam wanted to throttle him.

They waited. Dean checked his phone again and groaned; evidently there was no reply from Cas yet.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, you whine one more time and I’ll give you something to whine about.” _Dammit._

Dean snorted. “Okay, _Dad._ ”

“ _Seriously._ ” Sam turned to face him. “Have you seen yourself?” He launched into a little pantomime: shifting restlessly, pulling out his phone, whining, whimpering, and finally talking in a high voice that had absolutely zero in common with Dean’s. “Oh, why won’t my boyfriend text me back? Did he forget about me? Where’s my Cas? Where’s my baby? Where’s he at?”

“God, shut up,” Dean scoffed, turning away in embarrassment. He couldn’t exactly defend himself when he hadn’t even put his phone away yet. Sam watched him stuff it back into his pocket and chuckled. “I’m not _that_ bad, ok—”

“You might as well be in junior high—!”

But Sam’s exclamation was cut off as the screen lit up through Dean’s jacket. Dean whipped his phone right back out and stared down at it, a smile growing across his face and a happy blush spreading to his ears. He typed out a reply and relaxed back again, keeping his full attention on the warehouse ahead of them.

Sam opened his mouth. “Y—”

“Shut it, Sammy.”

He smirked and refocused on watching for people to show up.

*          *          *          *          *

**iii.**

And then there was the time Sam felt bad about a fight he and Dean had been having that lasted a good couple of weeks, so after they’d finally talked it out the previous night, he figured he’d make a bit of a smorgasbord for breakfast. He’d gotten up before everyone else did and gone out for a variety of donuts before returning to whip up some pancakes, scrambled eggs, and cut fruit.

Cas was almost as thrilled about the pancakes as he had been the previous evening by the reconciliation. He kept shutting his eyes and practically whimpering with satisfaction, syrup smeared over his lips, before opening his eyes and glancing back and forth between Sam and Dean’s amicable conversations and smiling. Still without remembering to wipe his face.

Kevin, on the other hand, was off in his own world, reading something on his Kindle between bites of pancakes and fruit. He chuckled now and then as he paged across the screen.

Sam was telling them about a conversation he’d had at the donut place with a customer who’d misunderstood one of the specials and how she’d appreciated his help. “So while they were getting my donuts and stuff, I figured why not, I’d ask for her number,” he shrugged. “But she handed over her receipt, saying she’d already written it down while I was ordering.” He smiled.

“Hey, there you go, Sammy!” Dean clapped him on the back. “Break your dry streak there, huh?” He elbowed Cas, snickering softly. “Right?”

Kevin helped himself to a bunch of eggs and a glazed donut.

Sam shook his head wryly. “Dude. It hasn’t been _that_ long, all right?”

“These are really good, Sam,” Cas interrupted. He hadn’t moved on from the pancakes yet. “Thank you for this.”

“No problem.”

Dean dipped his eyebrows into a sort of almost frown at Cas, his mouth twisting up into a half-grin. “Babe. Wipe your face.”

Cas finally did, but it didn’t matter because he kept going at the pancakes and just ended up re-syrup-ing his mouth again right away. Sam watched in amusement, trying not to laugh.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Sam grabbed a healthy amount of eggs and a cremestick donut with maple icing while Dean started in on the remaining pancakes that Cas had yet to bogart; Cas grabbed some fruit.

“Good to see you guys talking again, anyway,” Kevin said between eating some pears and peaches. “The whole Cold War there was getting really old.”

Cas nodded vehemently, cheeks bulging with the last of his pancakes.

Dean set down the coffee he’d been drinking. “Yeah. Well. It was time.”

“Yep,” Sam agreed, finishing the last of his scrambled eggs and picking up the maple-topped donut. “Now we can find something else to squabble over, right?” Dean nodded in agreement.

There was another small silence. Cas gazed at Dean fondly, and when Dean finally glanced up from his pancakes, he returned the look, a smile curving his lips.

Kevin rolled his eyes and returned to his reading while he ate.

 _I know the feeling_ , Sam thought, chewing.

And then things went south. Because Cas basically had the hang of tact for the most part after all this time, but there were still some things that seemed to elude him. Like that even though, if there were others talking at the table to cover the volume, and even if you lowered your voice, it was _always_ fucked up to mention sexual habits at the table.

Kevin and Sam were discussing newly published books when Cas scootched his chair closer to Dean’s. “We’ll have to try that again last night,” he said. “I had no idea you would be so right about…” He leaned in and lowered his voice even further, but they all clearly heard him say the word _“rimming_ ” anyway.

Kevin turned green. He stood up and walked away, leaving everything on the table.

Sam set his half-eaten donut down. “Well. I’m done eating, too.”

Dean choked, then swallowed quickly so he could speak. “Uh, Cas, I-I-I don’t think that’s—”

“What?” Cas just looked at them too innocently. “I thought it was nice.” Misinterpreting the look on Sam’s face, he quickly added, “Oh, no, don’t worry. We used a dental dam.”

“Gah—” Sam held shaking hands up to his ears. “Don’t—Cas, please. I love you both, but—I don’t wanna hear about your sex lives, all right? Like, ever.”

Cas nodded. “I’m sorry, Sam,” he said.

There was an awkward silence as Dean picked at the last of his food and Sam began gathering up his dishes and napkins.

Cas leaned closer to Dean again. “I’d like to try it on _you_ tonight,” he said, whispering, but unfortunately in a voice that _still_ wasn’t low enough.

Sam groaned and, taking a cue from Kevin, just left everything on the table. Fuck it. They _deserved_ the cleanup and dishes after paying back his nice favor with this.

*          *          *          *          *

**iv.**

And then there was the time Sam was shuffling tiredly toward the bathroom for a shower one morning, pushing his hair out of his face, when he stopped short a few feet away from Dean’s door. Was that—

Oh, dear god.

It was. An actual _giggle._ “Stop it!” his brother shrieked between bouts of laughter. “Cas, no, knock it _o—_!” More giggles, then a snort, followed by Cas’s low-throated laugh.

Sam rolled his eyes and hurried on. _Please tell me I’ve never been this annoying in a relationship…_

But his nightmare wasn’t over after the shower. On the way back through the halls, as he was wondering what coffee flavor he felt like trying, he heard a strange series of noises he didn’t think Cas was even _capable_ of making. There were hiccups and gasps and actual squeals of laughter. And in between it all, a softer sound Sam couldn’t quite place.

What the hell were they _doing_ to each other in there?

Ohhh, he didn’t want to ask that question. Sam shuddered, trying to list as many monsters and creature names in his head as he could to distract himself.

-

It turned out to be a decent day after that. Although the brothers searched for cases, nothing came up that was even remotely suspicious, and they ended up having a low-key afternoon inside.

Around four, Sam took off for the post office. After he got back, they figured they’d make a night of it with a binge of the latest much-discussed Netflix series in the spare room that was fast becoming their living room.

So all four of them had congregated together with bags of popcorn. They’d gotten a couple of couches and a few armchairs; nothing fancy yet, all secondhand. But the intent was there. They even had a mini fridge with varying stashes of beer, soda, juices, and water, depending on their mood and who remembered to stock it at the time.

Kevin immediately snagged the good recliner with the extending footstool and the cushions in the armrests that actually stayed in place. Nobody protested; after Cas and Dean had traumatized the poor kid at breakfast the other day, he _definitely_ deserved the good seat.

Sam watched as Dean and Cas snagged the dark brown couch and scoffed affectionately. He folded his long frame into the greenish-beige chair with the slipping armrest cushion and extended the footrest.

No one was bothering with the other sofa, shoved into the far corner. Damn thing was broken and they hadn’t bothered to ditch it yet. It _was_ fine up until about a week ago, when the springs had mysteriously, completely given out. Sam side-eyed Cas and his brother suspiciously while Kevin started the show.

Soon enough, the foursome fell into a companionable silence, broken only by the effervescent _clinks_ of beers opening and intermittent reactions to the action onscreen.

“Dude, I can’t believe you haven’t watched this before,” Sam said to Dean after taking a long drink of beer from his nearly-empty bottle, his eyes on the screen. “I mean, didn’t you ever get curious? It’s all over the place.”

Loud chewing for a second. Then, with an obviously still full mouth, “Whuh cah I say, Sa’ee? I ha’ a life.”

A sudden yelp.

Sam whipped his head over just in time to see Dean spew popcorn at least a foot and a half in front of him as if he was going for a record. Cas was grinning mischievously, a flash of white teeth showing as he withdrew his elbow from Dean’s side.

Kevin glanced over to Sam, flatly unamused. He leaned over the side of his chair, stretching to offer him a spare beer from the mini fridge, and Sam took it gratefully. “Thanks.” They both turned back to the screen.

“Oh, what, I _don’t_ have a life? Is that what you’re saying?” Dean scoffed. Out of the corner of his eye Sam could see him picking kernels off his shirt.

“I didn’t say a word,” Cas (God help them all) actually teased. Fits and starts of his own low laughter filled the room—Dean was clearly tickling him.

Sam shook his head and turned the volume louder, grabbing a handful of popcorn himself and listening to his own chewing to drown out their antics.

*          *          *          *          *

**v.**

But it was all worth it that time they drove out to Boise to investigate what turned out to be a vetala. Kevin decided to stay behind for some much-needed peace and quiet, and Sam, Dean, and Cas got a couple rooms in a hotel.

After the hunt, they all went out for beers, where Sam patiently endured the flirting. Cas got sillier and more relaxed; Dean kept laughing and using progressively worse pick up lines before Cas forcibly shut up him by kissing him.

Sam kept silent, waiting. A little after nine, he happened to glance up toward the door and broke into a grin. “Hey, Jill!”

Dean frowned and craned his neck to see behind his and Cas’s side of the booth. “Jill? Jill Howe? She’s—you made plans?”

“Yeah, I figured—you know, we’re in town; why not?” Sam shrugged and slid over in his side of the booth. They’d met her during a rougarou hunt a few years earlier, and she and Sam had hit it off, staying in loose contact afterward. “Hey!” he greeted Jill as she approached.

“Hi, guys.” She smiled and tucked a lock of short dark hair behind one ear.

They introduced her to Cas and talked for a while, Sam updating her on the hunt they’d been on and a few other things about their lives. She was glad to hear about Cas and Dean finally getting together, but quickly realized what Sam had been complaining about earlier. She and he met each other’s eyes a couple times and raised eyebrows in silent exasperation.

Eventually, Sam and Jill excused themselves. “We’re gonna see a movie,” Jill said. “It was great to meet you, Castiel—Cas.”

Cas nodded, smiling his endearingly awkward little way. “You, too,” he said, holding out his hand. Dean slung an arm around his shoulder and reached for one of Cas’s mozzarella sticks; without looking, Cas pulled the plate closer to himself as he and Jill shook hands.

Sam chuckled. _Smooth_ , he thought. “So. Yeah. Well, we’ll see ya, huh?” Dean winked as he popped the last of a mozzarella stick into his mouth.

 _Gonna be regretting that wink pretty soon here, big brother._ Sam simply beamed and slung an arm around Jill as they left.

Sam and Jill did end up going to a movie, but not before ambling through the nearby Walmart first. (Jill had a last-minute birthday gift for a niece to shop for, and Sam needed to grab some detergent for the Bunker. Although he and Dean didn’t care either way, Cas preferred linen or cotton scents, and Kevin was turning out to be slightly allergic to Tide brand. So now the brothers kept things like that in mind.)

By the time Sam and Jill got to the movie theater, they had to wait for another showing and didn’t get back to the motel until later than Cas and Dean had probably figured; the happy couple was most likely asleep already.

Perfect.

-

_“More… more…”_

_“Please… baby, ahhh…”_ Squeak-squeak.

Dean rolled over, barely conscious as he sought out Cas’s warmth. Damn, he could be annoying sometimes. “Cas,” he croaked, still halfway in a dream of vetalas and pie and utter destruction. “Babe. Wake up.” No response but a short whined grunt of protest.

_“Oh, right there, right there, yeah…”_

Groggily, Dean reached over, his arm slithering around Cas’s bare waist to pull him closer. “You’re sleep-talking. Shuddup.”

More squeaking, rhythmic, growing in intensity. _“Faster. Faster! Oh, Sam… Sam!”_

Dean blinked his eyes open. “That’s not my name.”

“And that’s not my _voice_ ,” Cas muttered with a trace of barely-restrained “are you _kidding_ me?” When Dean finally looked at him, he saw that Cas’s hands were up by his head, his fingertips pressed into his ears.

“Oh, hell,” Dean griped. “Seriously, Sam?” Hook-ups on a hunt weren’t out of the ordinary by far, and obviously they didn’t have control over whether their partner was loud in bed.

…But _Sam was being loud, too._ It wasn’t just Jill.

_“Harder, HARDER! Oh, God…”_

Although _that_ was her. And it was kinda hot.

_“You’re so hot, baby…”_

And that _wasn’t_.

More bedsprings, going at an impressive pace. Dean shoved his pillow over his head and half-growled sleepily. “Keep it down, Sammy…”

“Let’s just go,” Cas mumbled next to him.

“Gotta be over soon,” Dean said. It would take time to scramble up and into clothes. And during that time they’d still have to hear the unmufffled sex cries with no free hands to protect their ears. No thanks.

 _“Ohh, right there… uhh—!”_ A rhythmic pounding on the wall began.

Dean sacrificed one hand’s grasp on the pillow and reached up to bang on the wall in retaliation. “Keep it _down_ , Sam!” he yelled. “Don’t make me come in there!”

There was a pause, and then a badly muffled female gasp, followed by soft giggling. Then moaning. _Male_ moaning.

Cas grumbled and buried his head under his own pillow.

-

Sam grinned at Jill and kept going in the other room. “So… so good!” he exclaimed, still hoping he sounded accurately turned on.

Jill sighed and knocked the headboard again. “Ohh-uhhhh… oh _fuck_ , Sam!”

 _“I_ swear _to GOD, Sammy…”_

It was getting difficult to keep from laughing louder than he and Jill already had, listing forward in their chairs, fists clasped to mouths to stifle the snickering and gasping for breath. Jill was going far above and beyond for her part in it—not to mention the girl’s acting skills. She was damn near fooling Sam himself!

They were seated on opposite sides of the bed so either of them could have access to the headboard and wall, feet and legs stretched out on the top of the covers. Jill was even playing a game on her Kindle, multitasking brilliantly as she improvised her lines.

 _“Seriously, let’s just go, babe,”_ they just barely heard Cas urging Dean.

Giggling, Jill kicked her feet again to squeak the bedsprings. Sam let out another fake series of gasps and shoved at the headboard repeatedly, matching her rhythm.

 _“Fine, all right, I can’t take it anymore,”_ Dean groused next door.

Jill’s eyes lit up. Sam nodded.

They both kept going with the sex noises for a while, waiting until they were sure Dean and Cas were about to leave. While Jill continued with the bedsprings squeaking, Sam silently got to his feet and made his way to the door, listening.

The sound of a door opening.

“YES! YESS!” Jill shouted out behind Sam. He turned, startled; she glanced behind her apologetically and held up her Kindle. “Didn’t plan that, but hey,” she whispered. “I beat that level I was stuck on.”

Sam laughed quietly. “Don’t worry about it,” he mouthed, shrugging. He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway just in time to meet Cas and Dean’s red-faced, irritated gazes. “Gotcha!”

Their mouths fell open in identical looks of shock and dismay.

Jill stepped out fully dressed behind Sam. She beamed. “Sorry, guys. I couldn’t resist helping him out.”

Cas just stared in disbelief, shaking his head, while Dean’s reaction was hilarious. He opened and shut his mouth twice, held up a hand, opened his mouth one more time, swallowed, then ran his hand over his head before finally speaking. “Are you _fucking_ kidding me?!!”

Sam exchanged a glance with Jill. “Well, _yeah_. That was kind of the point.”

Dean groaned. “Come on,” he muttered, grabbing Cas’s hand and dragging him back into their motel room.

“Thanks,” Sam told Jill, grinning.

She high-fived him. “Anytime! That was fun.”

 _Cas and Dean: Too many; Sam & Co: One, _Sam thought. _But we’ll catch up on you guys yet, don’t worry!_

**Author's Note:**

> In the fourth Sam-getting-annoyed section, that bit where he's walking back through the halls after his shower, and hears something he can't quite place? Yeah, Dean's blowing raspberries on Cas's tummy. :p And in case it wasn't obvious, before that, Cas was tickling Dean. Because they're _children_. *heart eyes* And in the Netflix scene, the dark brown couch Dean and Cas are on, and bad-cushion armchair Sam uses? That's my furniture! The chair Kevin uses is fictional because I don't have a good one :p 
> 
> And in the fifth section, Jill is a sort of amalgamation of a few of my closest friends. I realize the J name is a little close to Jess, but the Jill she's named for has been way above and beyond with helping me lately, and I wanted to give her a shout-out of sorts. <3 The character is also demisexual, which I didn't have anywhere to show or state, but there we go.


End file.
